Saitama's Biggest Fan
by LinIsSleepy
Summary: With all of the people Saitama had saved, it wasn't strange that he'd have at least one fan. OC.


**Hello! Thank you for checking this out! I just love OPM, and I just had to write this. Please let me know what you think.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own One Punch Man, and this is for fan purposes only. Please enjoy!**

* * *

When she was thirteen, she saw him for the first time.

She walked home from school that day with nothing on her mind but her new assignment. She barely even muttered an announcement of her arrival, as greeting her mother took too much concentration away from what was truly important: her grade. Her teacher had lectured her again that day about getting it up, at least, one more grade level. He'd sounded pretty desperate, pretty fed up with her failing attempts on tests and worksheets. She wasn't so sure she could sneak by with a passing grade _again_ , and failing the eighth grade was _not_ something really wanted to be on her permanent record.

It was her mother's fault, she figured. As an only child, she had basically gotten away with murder. No one grounded her if she neglected her chores, no one told her, 'no, you _can't_ have that, because it's too expensive', and no one had made her put down her game controller or Manga when she had overdue homework.

Her father had lost his temper once, had called her lazy. Her mother had blown a gasket and chewed on his ear until he was bowing and kissing her feet.

"She's not lazy. She's taking her time to discover herself! Teenage girls have difficult lives as it is, and they don't need hormonally stable men _reprimanding_ them for being themselves!"

She was glad her mother was a Social Justice Warrior.

But that day, her teacher had finally drawn a line. If she didn't try on this assignment, she would see him again after summer break. As bad as failing a grade would be, seeing that cruel man again was the reason she was worried at all.

Her assignment didn't sound all that difficult until she plopped down on her bed to contemplate possible answers.

'Who is your hero, and why?'

She rolled the question around on her tongue, and when nothing came to her, she rolled around on her bed. She converted into a caterpillar in her blankets; no ideas came to mind. She jumped on her chair and spin in circles until she was dizzy: nothing. She spun in her chair again for good measure. Something almost came to her, but she lost it when the chair tipped and she was thrown to the ground. She glanced down at her elbow and found it red. There was no blood, although it _did_ sting. She must have burned it on the carpet.

' _I better treat this,_ ' she thought. ' _I wouldn't want to miss school the day this assignment is due because I succumbed to infection.'_ She rummaged through her home's emergency first aid kit, retrieved a bandage and disinfectant, and cleaned her wound. It was a painful process, but she managed to hold in her tears.

She returned to her room, but then her stomach growled. After a quick snack, she got right back to work.

' _Okay, no more procrastinating.'_

She preceded to pull out a blank sheet of notebook paper and a pencil.

She had just thought of an idea and went to write it down when her lead snapped.

' _Darn, can't write without a pencil.'_

She sharpened it, quite professionally, she'd say. She hopped back in her chair, spun in a circle once - and _only_ once because she had learned her lesson - and finally, _finally_ got to work. Her progress was quite pleasing, as her paper now read: "My hero is..."

"I think I need a break," she sighed. She fished a Manga from her bag and immersed herself in a world of color coordinated magical girls.

She glanced up from her page when a slight tremor rattled her lamp. She steadied it, only for another rumbling to start it up once more.

"An earthquake?" she wondered, standing. She lugged down the stairs to her kitchen, where her mother should have been watching Soap Operas.

She was halfway there when her home completely imploded.

Blackness was all that she knew.

* * *

When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was the chilly breeze. It pierced her through her thin blouse, biting more than just her exposed skin. The second thing she noticed was the smell of ash and fire. The third thing was uncomfortable and sharp rubble underneath her, and then it was the crick in her neck.

The final thing was the silence. She sat up, coughing from the cloud of ash that attacked her lungs and stung her eyes. Splintered plywood chips were sprinkled over her torso, but they fell away when she stood. Other than a pounding headache and a stiff neck, she was completely fine. Actually, her elbow still stung, but she had already treated that.

Her house was not fine in any sense of the word. It was gone, leveled, just like the rest of the houses and apartments on the block. Just like every single building as far as she could see. She scaled her pile of 'house', kicking at debris and digging at loose boards when she came across her family fridge. She kicked down to the ground, where she found that their tiles floor had survived, and branched out from there, shoving, rearranging, and tugging her way through her kitchen. However, at one point the rubble became too compact for her to continue her progress, and she was forced to pull herself out of the hole she had burrowed. If she wanted to clear out her kitchen, she would need the assistance of at _least_ one other person, two if she could find them.

She advanced beyond her parents' property, sifting through debris as she went, circling her neighbors' homes.

The elderly gardener no longer had a garden for her to tend to, nor a house to enjoy its produce in.

She went further still, passing by the library and then her school. Both were gone.

She walked further into the city, and still, she found nothing salvageable. She kicked at planks harder, and she shouted occasionally to see if anyone could hear her.

She _felt_ rather than heard the other tremors. They were smaller, further away.

They also glowed, like explosions, like a Manga character's attack. She watched it hit the south end of the city, then the west, forming two giant craters.

"Mommy," she called. No one came. But her mother _always_ came to her when she called.

"Daddy," she yelled. It was her lasts resort, calling her father, when her mom wasn't home and the closet monsters were already under her bed. She had been calling him 'Dad' for years, but when she really wanted him to know she needed him, 'Daddy,' was the best thing to say.

"Where are you?" she shrieked. She finally received an answer, but it was from the piles of rubble towering around her.

"Where are you?" it echoed, her voice mimicked and stretched and sent right back to her.

She _knew_ where her parents were. Her mother was always in the kitchen because she liked its open bay window and the nice television installed in it. Her father, who always arrived home from work after she got home from school, would have been in the living room. The living room, whose carpeted floor hadn't even survived. Every square inch of the kitchen that she hadn't cleared was packed under heavy walls and boards. The bay windows had blown out. They probably had been the first thing to go.

"Mommy! Daddy!" she screamed, injuring her vocal chords. The pain of it somehow lessened the throbbing in her chest, so she screamed again, and again. She suddenly felt a tad better, despite the tears leaking from her eyes. The relief didn't last long, and she resumed her cries.

Another explosion shook the ground, rattling her teeth and knocking her off her feet. It was so, so very _close_ , much nearer than the others, but that fact did not register in her mind. She struggled to her feet, pushed forward, crying, calling for her mommy and daddy.

Someone heard her.

She didn't see him, for her eyes were blurry from smoke and tears, and she directed them straight ahead and nowhere else. Normally, had someone approached her from behind, she would have heard them as they neared. It would have been impossible to avoid all of the unstable, weakened debris on the ground. Stepping on it would make a noise, without a doubt.

But this creature could fly, in once sense of the word. Not with wings, just with the capabilities of his mind. He was bare, with nothing her planet would consider as clothing. His violet skin was both beautiful and disturbing because it was as unnatural on her planet as it was natural on his.

He reached for her, his hand transmuting into claws of death and destruction. They grew, morphed until they could swat her like a fly. It was a silent change, and she still hadn't noticed him.

He squeezed his hand close, sealing her fate.

She blinked, one moment looking at her leveled city, the next at the gray, clouded sky. Her sight was slightly blocked by a billowing white blanket. She felt metal bars wrapped around her torso. Although, they were warm for metal bars.

She was placed on the ground before she fully realized what had happened. The wind had dried her salty tears on her cheeks, as if to say, 'it's okay, you're safe now'.

The warm metal bars were actually arms, hard, fatless _arms_. The billowing white blanket was a cape.

"Who are you?" the purple alien boomed at her savior.

She inspected the man before her, who stood between her and her certain death. He was a tad on the short side, and the yellow jumpsuit he donned was not a good color on him. His bald head was shinier than her mother's engagement ring.

At that moment, he was the most beautiful human being she had ever laid eyes on.

He gave the alien a plain smile at his question. "I'm someone who's a hero for fun," he answered.

The alien curled back his lip in contempt. "What kind of ridiculous backstory is that!?" He took a step forward, clenching his fist. "I exist because of humankind's pollution of the environment!" He pounded his fist to his heart, announcing, "I am Vaccine Man! The earth is a single living organism, and you humans are the disease-causing germs that are killing it!"

She watched, distantly, as his jaw unhinged and his teeth morphed into fangs as long as knives. "The will of the earth gave birth to me so that I may destroy humanity and its insidious civilization!"

He loomed over the bald man, his muscles bulging and foam spewing from his mouth. He was three times bigger than a bodybuilder. "But you do this for fun!? That's the reason you oppose me, the apostle of the earth!?"

Her eyes were glued to the back of the man's bald head. He didn't tremble at the change, at the beast. He didn't even flinch.

Vaccine Man didn't stop his transformation there. He was suddenly taller than her house, suddenly nothing but sinewy muscles, claws, and fangs. His exhale was powerful enough to lift her off the ground by an inch. It proceeded to blow her backward by two feet. Small bits of rubble were flung at her, and she was forced to shield her eyes.

"Then indeed, I _must..._ " Vaccine Man bellowed, "...wipe humankind from existence!"

With contractions starting from his legs and rippling through his abdomen, the purple alien lunged.

It was faster than she could see, the bald man's swing. His fist connected with the middle of Vaccine Man's chest, and suddenly, just like her house, just like her school, just like her gardener neighbor, just like her parents, he was suddenly gone, in nothing but pieces.

Blood and guts peppered her cheeks and stained her blouse, and steam escaped from the bald man's gloved fist.

It took her several moments to piece together what had happened.

Baldy had defeated Vaccine Man with _one_ _punch_.

He began to walk away.

"Wait!" she called, her voice suddenly working again, although it was scratchy and dry. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring that purple ooze under her toes. She didn't _want_ him to leave, didn't want to be _alone_ again. "Who are you? I mean," she thought back to Vaccine Man's question. "What's your name?"

He turned to look at her, and she knew she wanted to be with him forever. Whatever that meant, she wanted to be at his side.

"Saitama," he said simply, and he turned again and began to walk. In the chaos and utter destruction, she wasn't sure how he knew where he was going.

She jogged to catch up to him. He glanced back at her with bored eyes. "Can I help you?"

He didn't stop walking, and she didn't either. After a moment of silence, he tried again. "Is there a reason you're following me?"

She nodded, dashing closer with a newfound burst of energy so she could grab his pant leg. His expression didn't change.

"I need your help with an assignment," she said.

Saitama hummed. "School, huh?"

She nodded.

"I've always hated school," he admitted.

The duo walked on.

He didn't promise to assist her, she realized, but he also hadn't told her to leave. And, well, that was good enough for her.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate feedback!**

 **Also, I have a favor to ask. Over on Inkitt, a website for hopeful future authors, I published this story in a Fanfic contest. It would mean the world to me if you would take the time to find this, and if you liked it, give it a heart/good rating or a review. It shouldn't take too long, and it's a really cool site. However, I'm afraid this story was lost in all of the other submissions and will be impossible to find through the contest page. If you use the site's search engine, this story will be under the same title, _'Saitama's Biggest Fan',_ by the user LindseyJake (me). I don't expect to win, but I would love to put it out there, and on that site, no one really reads things unless they are popular. Thank you in advance!**

 **Thanks for reading, and I would love some feedback!**

 **~MaoIsSleepy**


End file.
